Volume One: Peak from the Start Chapter Twenty-Four: Isn't This Making Things Difficult for Me, Fat Tiger?

The music began, and a focused beam of light illuminated the stage, revealing a solitary figure—Chen Jing. He picked up the microphone and began to sing slowly, his voice steeped in melancholy:

“Drifting northward, don’t ask about my hometown
The towering ancient city walls cannot keep sorrow at bay…”

Another beam of light shone, and Li Qingwei stepped out, seamlessly joining in with a rap that flowed with Chen Jing’s melody.

“Some say he owes a mountain of debt back home and needs to lay low,
Some say…
Some have lost…
Some chase their dreams…”

Li Qingwei gave himself wholly to the performance. At this moment, he wasn’t thinking about the highest score, nor whether he would take first place. He simply wanted to give his all and sing this song as best he could.

Chen Jing and Li Qingwei complemented each other perfectly, matching the rhythm as they sang together:

“Enduring tears (neither hearing nor thinking, afraid to look back at the regrets)…
This city (the smog is rampant and won’t disperse, you can’t see what lies ahead)…”

Li Qingwei finished his first verse, breathing lightly, his hands trembling with excitement. He couldn’t help it—everyone in the audience had already risen to their feet. Though they weren’t shouting, their faces were suffused with emotion, some even with reddened eyes. How could he not be moved?

Chen Jing opened his throat, closed his eyes, and sang with deep feeling:

“Like dust scattered on the wind,
Who can guide me to fly together?
…
The heavy pack on my shoulder is filled with sorrow…”

After this verse, Chen Jing and Li Qingwei exchanged a glance. Chen Jing signaled him to suppress his excitement, while his own singing carried on without pause.

Chen Jing’s high notes continued. Li Qingwei took a deep breath, bent forward, picked up the microphone, and rapped in rhythm:

“I stand at the emperor’s feet, crushed till I can barely breathe (I drift northward)…
…
So many have slipped into unconsciousness, leaving behind only empty shells (filled with sorrow)…”

Chen Jing gently concluded, “The hometown I cannot return to…”

At that moment, the music abruptly stopped. Li Qingwei breathed heavily, scanning the audience.

No one reacted at first—until Chen Jing also lowered his microphone, and everyone suddenly realized the song had ended. After two seconds of silence, a wave of applause erupted like the ocean.

“Ah!!”
“This song is amazing.”
“It truly reached the depths of my heart.”
“Yes, especially the rap part—it’s exactly my story.”
“Wild Brother, you’re fantastic!”

The cheers rose and fell without end. Li Qingwei felt as if he were dreaming, for so many in the crowd were screaming for him, not just for Chen Jing.

Dazed, Li Qingwei felt someone tug at him. Turning, he saw Chen Jing.

Chen Jing whispered, “Why are you spacing out? Let’s go, it’s time for the judges’ comments.”

“Uh—oh, right.” Li Qingwei snapped back, hurrying after Chen Jing.

The host came onstage. Cai Lun spoke excitedly, “No need to say how Chen Jing’s performance was—the audience says it all. Judges, who will start?”

The three judges exchanged glances, and Wei Guoqiang spoke first, turning to Chen Jing, “The song’s name—is it ‘Drifting Northward’?”

Chen Jing and Li Qingwei nodded.

Huang Wenhao nodded approvingly, “The title suits the song perfectly. Very well done.”

Su Tingting couldn’t help but ask Chen Jing, “Did you write this song yourself?”

Chen Jing nodded. “Yes.”

Su Tingting’s face remained expressionless, saying nothing more. Yet the audience erupted in cheers once again. Wei Guoqiang smiled at Chen Jing, “To be honest, you’ve changed my perception of you again.” He held up four fingers. “You two together—only four words can describe it: Commanded the entire stage!”

Su Tingting spoke again, calmly, “A very good song, especially the rap—it went straight into people’s hearts.” She looked at Li Qingwei, “Especially you, Li Qingwei. Your performance today really surprised me. I hope you’ll keep at rap, and bring it to more fans—including me, since I also love rap.”

“Ooh!” Su Tingting’s words drew another round of cheers from the audience.

“Thank you, Teacher Su! I’ll keep going,” Li Qingwei bowed to her, visibly moved.

Huang Wenhao added, “It’s true, I think the most powerful thing about this song is the lyrics. It reminds me of my life before fame, much like what the song describes.” He finished with a bitter smile and a shake of his head.

“All right, please, judges, give your scores for this performance.”

Wei Guoqiang: 98
Huang Wenhao: 97
Su Tingting: 95
Plus the audience’s 492 points

“Congratulations to Group 15. Their final score is 782 points.”

“Yes!” Li Qingwei jumped up, thrilled. “Thank you, everyone! Thank you!”

Chen Jing smiled happily, satisfied—it was even higher than last time.

The other contestants below the stage looked at the daunting score and were finally convinced, applauding the two on stage.

Xie Weiyu and Gu Tao also clapped for Chen Jing and Li Qingwei, though for Gu Tao it was genuine admiration; for Xie Weiyu, it seemed more forced.

Unnoticed, Xie Weiyu bit her lip. If Chen Jing hadn’t rejected her, she would have shared in that score. Damn it—all because…

Xie Weiyu glared fiercely at Chen Jing on stage.

Next came the recording for the other groups. Chen Jing checked the time and said to Lin Xi, “Xi, I might have to leave first. There’s a child from a relative staying alone at my place, and I’m not comfortable leaving her by herself. I want to get back early and check on her.”

Lin Xi nodded, “Go ahead. We’ll watch over things here and let you know if anything comes up.”

Lin Zitan asked curiously, “Jing, how old is the child? Is it a boy or a girl?”

“A girl, probably five years old. I’m not entirely sure—I just picked her up today.” Chen Jing shrugged, packed up his things, and prepared to leave.

“Boss Jing, take care.” Immersed in joy, Li Qingwei finally came to his senses, saw Chen Jing about to go, and quickly stood to see him out.

Chen Jing waved him off, indicating there was no need, “No need to get up, just pay attention to the rest of the groups’ performances.” With that, he picked up his bag and left.

Once Chen Jing had gone, Lin Zitan leaned close to Lin Xi and whispered, “Xi, didn’t Chen Jing say before that he came to Xiang City alone, with no relatives here?”

“Hmm? I think so.” Lin Xi glanced at Lin Zitan, “Why?”

Lin Zitan was puzzled, “Then how did he suddenly get a relative’s child? He never mentioned it before, and only this morning told us about the girl.”

“Hmm…” Lin Xi pondered—it was indeed odd.

Lin Zitan lowered her voice, “Do you think the child could be Chen Jing’s own kid?”

“What?” Lin Xi stared at her sister in shock, “Where did you get that idea?”

“I’m just guessing!” Lin Zitan declared confidently. “Think about it: Jing suddenly left his hometown for Xiang City, right? Why would someone leave home for no reason? Something must have happened back there, forcing him to leave. Most often for young people, it’s heartbreak. So Jing must have been troubled by love, which made him leave that place. And this sudden arrival of the child must mean she’s his daughter. Otherwise, what parents would let their young child live with a young man?”

Her reasoning was so convincing that Lin Xi almost believed her.

Lin Xi rolled her eyes elegantly, unwilling to argue with her imaginative sister, deciding to let her indulge in her own fantasies.

Chen Jing returned to his apartment by dusk. As he opened the door, a figure rushed out and hugged him. No need to guess—it was Molly.

Chen Jing patted Molly’s purple hair and smiled, “Molly, how did you know it was me coming home?”

Molly looked up at him, her voice soft, “I can feel it.”

Chen Jing squinted slightly. Feel it? Was it some kind of ability?

He bent down, lifted Molly into his arms, and changed the subject, “Molly, did you have dinner tonight…” He asked as he carried her inside.

Molly murmured, “I did.”

Inside, Chen Jing glanced at the dining table—sure enough, some of the food had been eaten. He set Molly on a chair and smiled, “Why is there so much left? Did you not like these dishes?”

He had prepared the food according to Molly’s appetite in the morning; she should have finished it, or at least not left so much.

Molly looked at him for a moment, then lowered her head and whispered, “I… I left it for you.”

“Ah?” Chen Jing was surprised. Seeing the table still half full, he instantly understood. Looking down at the silent Molly, his eyes grew especially gentle.

He reached out and gently stroked Molly’s forehead, speaking softly, “Uncle hasn’t eaten yet. Let me heat it up, and you can eat with me, okay?”

Molly nodded happily, “Mm-hmm.”

After reheating the food and adding a bit more, Chen Jing sat down with Molly to eat.

Watching Molly chew slowly, Chen Jing recalled the information he’d researched last night and sighed quietly.

Late at night, after soothing Molly to sleep, Chen Jing stood alone on the balcony, gazing at the city lights, lost in thought.

A warm breeze swept by, and Chen Jing suddenly spoke, “You’re here?”

A figure appeared behind him, slowly approaching, slender hands entwining around his chest, her body pressed tightly against his back.

After hugging him, a gentle and sweet voice sounded, “Mm, Mirror, I missed you.”

Chen Jing’s body stiffened slightly, shaking his head with a wry smile. He freed himself from her embrace, turned her gently to face him, and said helplessly, “Ruoqing, stop it. We just talked on the phone yesterday.” As he looked at her, Chen Jing’s body froze.

The beauty before him was Sun Ruoqing, dressed in a fiery red, tight camisole mini-dress. Her long, smooth black hair framed a familiar, captivating face. Her curvaceous figure stretched the dress taut, making Chen Jing worry it might tear at any moment. Her slender legs were clad in black silk… Hmm!!! Chen Jing couldn’t help but widen his eyes, staring a few moments longer.

Oh my god! Black stockings! They really are black stockings!!

Chen Jing felt his nose threatening to bleed.

Heavens! Since when did this woman take a liking to this? Wasn’t she tormenting me, Fat Tiger?

Author: I say black stockings are eternal—no one objects, right? ←_←